On a Wednesday afternoon, a couple of weeks after our arrival in Kauai, we received a phone call from Moshe, an Israeli businessman visiting the island. We learned that he had come for an unhappy reason—to pay his respects at the grave of his older brother, whose yahrzeit was approaching. Would we be able to join him at the cemetery to recite the kaddish prayer and some chapters of mishnayot? Of course, we immediately agreed and took down the necessary information.

The next day, we met Moshe at the cemetery. He was glad to see us, but he had some bad news to share. He had just received word that another brother had passed away in Israel. He would have to sit shiva, and he would need a minyan for the kaddish. Since he hardly knew anyone in Kauai, he asked for our assistance in arranging one. Poor Moshe! We promised we would do our best to make it happen.

After a brief discussion, Aaron and I decided that we would aim to have the minyan take place on Sunday morning. We grabbed our invaluable contact list, and began making phone calls. It was slow going—we either had to leave messages, or the person had other plans, but we kept at it. Shabbat was approaching and we still didn’t have our minyan locked in. We worked the phones until close to sunset.

On Shabbat afternoon, we stopped by Moshe’s hotel room to keep him company. We reassured him that the minyan would take place, although inwardly we weren’t feeling all that confident.

The moment Shabbat ended, we continued inviting people to please join the shiva minyan, resorting to emails when the hour grew late.

Sunday morning arrived and people began to show up. We began wrapping tefillin with those who weren't familiar with the mitzvah, and helped them navigate the morning prayers. The turnout was better than we expected, but we only counted nine men. As Chassidic Jews, we are taught “think good and it we be good.” We decided to start the prayers, and G‑d willing, the tenth man would appear.

The clock ticked away as we prayed. We sang and chanted all the prayers aloud, giving the tenth man some time to arrive. Shortly before the final prayers, the door swung open, and in walked a Jewish gentleman from a nearby neighborhood! It seemed like the room resounded with a collective sigh of relief—the minyan was now complete. Moshe gave us a huge smile and stood up, grateful for the opportunity to recite the kaddish prayer to honor the memory his dear brother.

Afterwards, we enjoyed some wonderful conversations with the crowd, making sure to include some pertinent Torah thoughts.

Our efforts to help one Jew allowed us to touch 14 beautiful Jewish souls, who may otherwise not have had the opportunity to put on tefillin, and become acquainted with other Jews living on the island.

To our family and friends, many of them Chabad emissaries around the globe, this is an ordinary story, all in a day’s work. But for the friends we made that day, it was an amazing insight into our heritage, a hands-on display of the love and unity for a Jewish brother visiting Kauai.

The Roving Rabbi uniform - white shirt, dark pants, tzitzit, and black hat or kippah - is bound to stand out from the crowd, and it's particularly prominent on the colorful island of Kaua'i, Hawaii. But truth be told, it serves us well wherever we go, because it announces us as the new Jewish address in town.

Our first night on the island and we bumped into a friendly young Hawaiian right outside our apartment. Kamua had never seen religious Jews before, so we explained who we are and why we were spending our summer in Kaua’i. Kamua seemed impressed and suggested, “You know, my boss is Jewish, you guys should meet him.” We pressed him for more details and arranged to meet his boss, Greg, the following morning.

Greg owns a surfboard and scuba gear rental shop in Hanalei. As we drove up, he called out a boisterous “Shaloha!” - his unique hybrid of Shalom and Aloha.

We started chatting, and Greg shared some details of his childhood in California, and life in Kaua’i, his home for the past 40 years. His parents, both Holocaust survivors, had raised him in a home completely devoid of religion, so although Greg knew he was Jewish, he knew very little about his heritage.

We offered him the opportunity to put on tefillin, explaining what they are and why we wear them.

Greg agreed, “Sure, there’s always a first time, right?”

He put on the tefillin, said the shema prayer and we danced the hora in celebration. But soon the enormity of the moment caught up with Greg, and he found himself overcome with emotion, tears rolling down his cheeks.

“Does G‑d love me?” he asked suddenly.

We assured him that He does. Because of the atrocities his parents had suffered, they believed that G‑d had scorned them, and Greg grew up subconsciously believing the same. While there are no explanations for the Holocaust, we told Greg that G‑d is our compassionate Father, and His love for us is deep, binding, and unconditional.

We had opened a whole new world for Greg, and he was eager to explore. Too soon, it was time to go. We promised we would visit again, and left Greg with these parting words:

“Greg, here’s proof that G‑d loves you. He arranged that we go outside at the exact moment that Kamua was walking by. It’s by Divine Providence that we’re here today. Shaloha!”

Update:

We met Gregg again today. He was delighted to see us.
He told us that he had read the booklet about the Rebbe that we had given him, and it inspired him very much.
We put on tefilin again.
We promised to stay in touch.

Aja

One of our more memorable meetings was with Aja, a professor of Eastern Metaphysics at the local university.

"I think that we must eradicate the ego. Do you guys believe in that?"

In the ensuing discussion, the words of Prof. Aja were clearly reminiscent of chassidism and kabbalah, the foundations of our Chabad education.

Andre

Andre wanted to teach us how to surf.

We wanted to teach him Torah.

Deal.

So we invited Andre the Surfer, who had never experienced Shabbat in his life, to stay with us for the entire Shabbat.

Over the course of the weekend, Andre learned a lot about Judaism, and boy did we learn about the Hawaiian lifestyle and the so-called “surf religion.”

When we accompanied Andre to the surf shop, lo and behold, the store manager was also Jewish, and accepted our offer to put on tefillin!

Karen

When we handed a Shabbat candle kit to Karen on Friday, we explained that since Kauai is the one of westernmost Jewish community in the world, she would be one of the last women to welcome the Shabbat. Karen was moved to tears when she learned that her Shabbat candles would be wrapping up the millions of candles and the accompanying prayers of Jewish women worldwide.

Rob

Our colleagues who visited Kauai last summer bumped into Rob on the side of the road.

This year, we met him at a local coffee shop. After chatting for a while, we helped him put on tefillin and left him with a stash of Jewish books.

Bob

We visited Bob, a doctor who runs the local hospice. He was very happy to see us, since some of his patients are Jewish, and he feels that they need spiritual support. So we put him in touch with the local Chabad rabbi, who will certainly be a fantastic resource in Bob’s growth both as a doctor and a Jew.

Ram

"I quit my job as an oceanographer because my fellow scientists didn't believe in G‑d," Ram told us. His strong belief in G‑d is unshakable; admirable. He told us that he is a frequent visitor to Chabad.org, his desire to learn more about his heritage insatiable.

Tal

When we visited Tal, a native Israeli, he had just moved into a new house.

"Come in, guys! Let's make a Chanukat HaBayit! (new home dedication)"

Luckily, Meir had brought his guitar and a Kauai style Chanukat HaBayit was soon underway. Tal invited us back for a full-fledged farbrengen (Chassidic gathering) on motzei Shabbat.

Elisa

"Can I see what a pair of tefillin looks like?"

"Sure, why?"

"Because neither my husband nor my son have ever put them on."

After four hours of deep conversation about life and Judaism, David and Jack both had their unofficial bar mitzvahs, with Elisa kvelling besides them.

Darci

“So, what is the Jewish position for meditation?"

"Um, well, you look inside the siddur and move back and forth."

Darci, like many of her fellow Hawaiian Jews, leads a lifestyle emphasizing yoga and Eastern meditations.

She was thrilled to discover how much chassidism has to offer.

Rob

Rob is a lawyer, certainly not the average occupation around here.

He has vivid memories of his childhood in Brooklyn, where he lived blocks away from Lubavitch World Headquarters.

Each year, he eagerly anticipates the visit of the roving rabbis, and the chance to revisit his youth.

Goodbye Hawaii

It’s hard to believe that this coming Shabbat will be our last one here on the island. G‑d willing, we will be hosting a crowd of tourists and locals.

We’ve been fortunate to make so many warm connections here, and we look forward to continuing the relationships in the weeks and months to come.

For now, Aloha!